


jsut fuck me up,,

by swiftonthedownside



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, soulmate meme ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 13:11:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3411866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swiftonthedownside/pseuds/swiftonthedownside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>lmao whats up my fans about this haitus now,</p>
            </blockquote>





	jsut fuck me up,,

**Author's Note:**

> friendly reminder 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! sav the bees

Hinata was only ten. So he wasn't really that into love or romance or wahtevvevr the fkuckc this was supposed to be. But he really liked the idea of a free tattoo just for existing, so the moment he awoke on this June 21st, he ran into the bathroom to check himself out.

What he found was understandably disappointing. It was in a weird place - the underside of his upper arm. After twisting and contorting, he finally got what he thought was a good look at it. What the fuck. W,hat the fkuck. Was that "katachi"? What kanji was that. He rubbed at it, thinking maybe the magical Tattoo Demons had left some excess Demon Ink on him, to no avail. His soulmate's name, his one great clue, was completely illegible.

He asked his mother for her assistance, holding his awkward position with resolve as she tried to get it into the light. But she, too, was left stumped. All she could tell him with any certainty was that there was, in fact, a "yama". Nice. Nice, Hinata thought. How many fucking people in this country - nay, in this WORLD, have "山" in their name. He went to school.

As time wore on, he became less and less interested. It was a talking piece, for sure. "Hey, wanna see this weird scribble on my arm? Isn't my soulmate quite the dunderhead, let us have a good chuckle about it." But he didn't waste any time obsessing about it. He had tests to focus on and games to play and a childhood to be having. So he let it slide.

He did look strangely at the people he met who had the only discernible character in their name. Watched them, asked them questions. But they were all just normal people. So he eventually stopped.

Kageyama, however, was an asshole. He would yell and threaten and intimidate Hinata nigh on every day of his life. But they were friends, to an extent. Teammates, I suppose one might say. But there was one strange thing about Kageyama. And that was he refused outright to ever help Hinata study for anything.

It wouldn't have done a whole big deal of good. They were both garbage extraordinaire in virtually every subject. But it struck Hinata as odd that he would flip his notebook closed whenever he came near or have conveniently left his notes elsewhere when it came to studying with a group of classmates. He hadn't given it much thought, at first, because he though Kageyama was just stupid. But he did eventually start to notice.

Which is why, on the day Daichi noted aloud that Kageyama had dropped a notebook on the floor of the clubroom on his way out, Hinata yelled incoherently that surely he was the only one suited to return it to him. Dodging the weird looks from the rest of the team, he hoisted his belongings over his shoulder and left the clubroom quickly, snatching the book from Daichi on his way out. He ran half the way to the bike racks before slowing to a stop, looking at it.

Now, be warned, this is, in fact, an invasion of privacy. Hinata, somewhere in the back of his mind, was also aware of this. But that didn't stop him from ripping it open to the first page and scanning to find anything resembling a name.

This was a more difficult task than he had anticipated, for Kageyama's handwriting, by itself, was a disaster. Scrawling and cramped and half the time it looked like he had given up entirely halfway through a word. But the worst part was the aimless doodles present throughout the book, bleeding over into the notes themselves and turning everything into a dark, scribbly mess. Hinata was appalled. Hinata was disgusted.

However, he did eventually manage to find not what looked like a name, per say. But exactly what he was looking for. He shoved his way into a men's restroom, tearing off his shirt to make for sure. Yes. This was it. He absolutely had to teach Kageyama to have better handwriting, though.

~~~~~~~~~~~(&^#^*(&@$&$83679795079(＆～（＆（＆９＆i give up

The next day, he approached Kageyama with caution, during their lunch period. Kageyama glared at him his whole way over, though it might have had to do with the sketchy nature of his creeping movements.

"Hinata. What the fuck are you doing."

"Aha!" Hinata straightened up, grinning at him. "You're sly."

"What do you want?"

"Uh, I was just, going to give you this." He scratched his nose, holding out the notebook. "You dropped it yesterday in the clubroom..."

Kageyama snatched it from him. "Thanks."

Hinata stood in front of him, smiling stiffly. Kageyama stared at him.

"Do you need anything else?"

"Uh, no, I guess..."

"Then leave."

"Right." He turned on his heel, walking away slowly. Why. Wasn't. He saying anything.

~!@#$%^&*(&^%$#@!~@#$%^&*(*&^%$#@!~!@#$%^&*()(*&^%$#@!~

After all, the reason Kageyama had been hiding his handwriting was because he knew it was Hinata, right? For whatever reason, he had wanted to conceal this from him.

He lunged across the court, sending the ball flying back into the air. Why would he want to do that, though? And if that's what he was doing, why did he act so casual when Hinata had the very thing in his hands that could end the charade? Was he not panicked? Angry?

He watched Kageyama block a shot. It was him, right? No one else could possible write so terribly. At least, not so terribly and so similarly. He just had to figure out what the problem was. He just had to figure out what Kageyama was thinking.

He got hit in the face with the ball, falling onto his ass. God. Just fuck me up.

!@#$%^&*()(*&^%$#$%^&*())()(*&^%$%$%%^^%$#@@!@!@!@#$%^%$#

He spent several days trying to get it out of Kageyama. Or rather, several days squirming awkwardly and trying to think up a plan. It was one of these several days later that Hinata was too busy being distracted to realize they were drawing straws for cleaning duty, and it landed on himself and Kageyama.

He watched the team leave, a darkness overcoming his soul. He turned to look at Kageyama, realizing where the darkness was emanating from. He smiled shakily. "Well. Let's get to it, eh?"

"Yeah. You collect volleyballs, I'll mop. Can't believe I got stuck with you, the slowest, clumsiest..."

Hinata ignored his mutterings, doing as he had asked. He was so antsy. It was the perfect moment to bring it up. And yet, he was devoid of a plan. He was useless.

"Hinata. Come help me fold the net."

The moment! His moment! It had come! He jolted, turning. "Y-Yeah! Yeah." He walked over, reaching up to take down his side of the net. He looked at Kageyama.

"Hey, uh, um, Tobi-"

"What. Don't. Say that."

"Say wha-"

"That, you know what, don't say it."

"Fine, fine, I get it..." Acting cool and close and casual was down for the count. "Kageyama. Your, uh. Notebook, thing."

"What about it?" He walked towards Hinata, grabbing his end and starting to walk backwards again. Hinata straightened the net.

"Well, I looked inside, a-"

"What, you go through people's things without their permission now?"

"No! It's just. Well, I did, I guess, so. Yes, _bu_ -"

"Real nice."

"Will you just-!" He looked up and stopped. Kageyama looked seriously furious. "Um, I mean..."

"What do you want, Hinata?"

"Uh. Uh, I, uh." He blinked. Then started taking his shirt off.

"Wha - you idiot! This is not the time to be randomly undressing! Stop it you imbe-"

Hinata threw his shirt at Kageyama to get him to shut up. He held up his arm as Kageyama looked up again. "See! This is what I'm talking about." He looked at Kageyama. "That's you. Right?"

Kageyama just glared at him blankly. "Yeah."

They were quiet. Then Hinata started stepping forward. "I wanna see yours."

"Wha! Stay away!" Kageyama dodged Hinata as he lunged.

"I wanna see!"

"No!"

"Kageyama!"

"Hinata, get off of me - stop, I don't even know where it is!!! Hina-"

Success. Hinata held Kageyama's shirt in his hands, circling him repeatedly. What. The fuck. Don't say.

"Kageyama," he whispered, looking up at him. "Is it on your-"

" _No_ , it's _not_." He snatched his shirt away from him.

"Then where?"

Kageyama ran his hands through his hair, closing his eyes in exasperation, then leaned down. "Here." He lifted some of his hair from behind his ear.

"Oh."

"Can you see it?"

"Yeah. That's an even worse place than mine! Have you ever seen it with your own eyes?"

"No. Let's stop talking about this." He pulled on his shirt, going over to pick up the volleyball net.

"Oh. Okay." Hinata followed him. Was that it? Was this seriously the end of this conversation?

"Grab the other end, dumbass, I don't have all night."

"Okay." Alright, sure.


End file.
